A Bones Christmas Carol
by Mali Bear's Buddy
Summary: A Christmas Carol meets It's a Wonderful Life - Booth and Brennan style.  Happy Holidays!
1. The Mission

**A/N:** Okay, so I couldn't help myself. It's snowy here and I've been spending too much time bathed in the glow of the lights on my tree watching cheesy Christmas movies.

Many thanks to ProfeJMarie for helping me get this idea on track. Funny thing is, she doesn't have too much more of a clue what's going to happen than the rest of you do.

I'm going to hammer away on the next installment and see if I can get it up tonight. Hopefully, I'll be able to pull the whole thing together in 8 days and have the final chapter up on Christmas Day. Hmm, maybe I should get jsq to help me with one of those outlines she's so fond of. *wink*

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bones._

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* * *

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A Bones Christmas Carol

The Mission

A young man in army fatigues and a middle-aged woman with dark hair walk through double doors and into a white washed waiting room. His eyes twinkle with a hint of mischief and his hair is the color of wet sand. Her dark eyes hold trepidation and she worries her lower lip with her teeth. They sit across from each other in pristine chairs under the warmth of bright florescent lighting.

He looks at her as she sits with her hands folded in her lap. She reminds him a little bit of his mother. He misses his mother, especially at this time of year. Homemade cookies and the hum of Christmas carols in the kitchen. The chatter of friends and family as she scolds that they'll ruin their supper and to wait for dessert.

She smiles at him. Her children are older than the man across the room. She has a boy and a girl. She hasn't seen them in years. She wonders what they are doing right now. If they're happy. If they have families and people who love them.

He leans towards her and rests his elbows on his knees. "You wouldn't happen to know what we were called in here for, would ya?" he asks her.

There is a hint of an accent to his voice that she's unable to place even though she's well traveled. She studies him for a moment and looks at the patch on the left side of his shirt. _Parker._ "None, I'm afraid," she replies as she lets her attention drop to an imaginary piece of lint on her shirt sleeve.

They sit in silence save for the tapping of the young man's boot against the tiled floor.

He looks up at her again. "I'm Parker, by the way. Edward Parker, but folks back home called me Teddy." He gets up and outstretches a hand to her.

She takes it with a smile and admires his strong grip. Up close, she can tell he appears to be even younger than she originally thought. "Ruth Ke - well, Christine Brennan."

He drops into the seat next to her. "Sounds complicated," he says as he leans forward in his chair.

She sighs heavily. "I wasn't always a good person. Sometimes I wonder how I ended up here."

He smiles at her. "He's always watching. He knows His stuff."

Her brow furrows. "I was wondering if after all these years they realized they made a mistake," she says, her voice quaking with uncertainty.

"Master plan and all," Parker replies. "How'd you get here?"

"I was murdered," she says. Her eyes cloud. She bites at her lip again and rubs her hands on the legs of her slacks. _She doesn't like to think about that_.

"Me, too, I guess you could say. Casualty of war." He leans back against the wall. "They ever send you back?"

She turns to look at him. Her face is tight and awash with confusion. "Back? I didn't know you could go back."

He shrugs. "Neither did I," he tells her. "Couple years ago, they sent me back to help my Sarge and get him to help me clean up some unfinished business with my girl."

"Oh," she replies as she listens intently.

"Yeah," he says, shaking his head. "Sarge is a great guy, but he doubts himself, you know? He's always blaming himself and thinking he's not good enough. He actually thought he was responsible for my death! Do you believe it?"

"Given what you've just said about him, I suppose I do..." she says.

"Anyway, he was in a real jam and I helped him fight his way through. He told my girl that I loved her for me. I never got the chance. Well, I suppose I could have told her, but I was young and well..."

"Do you think we're here for something like that?" she asks him. _Was there a chance she'd get to see her children?_

He shrugs again. "Who knows? I hope Sarge is on the right track now. There was this pretty lady scientist. He said she was his partner, but the way he looked at her..." he shook his head. Suddenly, he snaps up. "Wait," he says, his eyes going wide. "Did you say your last name was Brennan?"

Christine's hands rise to her mouth. _Temperance? No. It couldn't be. It had to be a coincidence._

An older man with a kind smile enters the room. His long, white robe trails the floor. "I see the two of you have had a chance to get acquainted."

Parker returns the smile. "Hey, Pete," he says as he stands up.

"Teddy. Christine." He glides toward them and extends a hand to a door that appears in the wall to his left. "He'll see you now."

* * *

The new room is a grand cathedral. Gleaming stained glass lines the walls and allows streaming pools of color to stretch across the glossy floor.

"Teddy," a booming voice says from somewhere in the distance.

"Yes, Father?" he replies, his head bowed as if in prayer as he listens.

"It appears that Seeley Booth did not learn the lesson you were trying to teach him the last time."

Parker's head comes up. "You mean - ?"

"No. He didn't tell her that he loves her. Not then and not any one of several chances later."

Parker's face contorts like the big kid that he is and he begins to defend his Sergeant. "Sarge is a good guy, he just must have - "

"I'm afraid not, Teddy. He took a chance nine months ago, but didn't say the actual words when they would have mattered." There is a sadness to the voice.

"I'm sorry," the woman says. "I don't understand. What does this have to do with me?"

The voice chuckles. "Everything, my child. The woman Seeley Booth is in love with is your daughter. And, what's more, she loves him too. She's just too broken and scared to realize it."

"Why?" Christine asks. "What happened to her after we left? Is she all right?"

"She's very successful, but all of you, even Russell, left her. She had a difficult time. She's afraid she isn't worthy of love. Especially from someone like Seeley."

Christine glances at Parker. "Sounds like they're quite the pair," she utters softly.

"They aren't in peril, are they? I gotta tell ya, I don't quite have my sea legs after the last one," he says with a goofy grin.

"Not this time, Teddy," comes the voice. "But if they don't get together soon, their child will come into the world too late, if at all."

"Sounds ominous," the kid replies.

"Temperance. A mother?" Christine says in awe.

"I'm afraid the situation is becoming quite grave. They're already a year behind schedule. And much the way the serpent tempted Eve with fruit in the garden, Seeley has been tempted beneath a fig tree by a different kind of reptile."

"Seriously? A fig tree? That doesn't sound like Sarge." Parker chuckles.

A scene is displayed before them. It's a Christmas party. A man stands off to one side of the room talking to a woman who has long blonde hair. Whether he is conscious of it or not, however, his eyes keep drifting to the brunette in a red dress.

"She's beautiful," Christine mumbles as she sees her daughter for the first time in years.

* * *

"Sweetie, you should go over there," Angela says to her, a hand coming down to rest protectively on her swollen belly.

Brennan tugs at the pleated skirt of her dress. She had been hopeful that Angela was right - that the strapless scarlet cocktail dress with it's sweetheart neckline would bolster her confidence.

It had been several weeks since he told her he was "with someone now" - as if she hadn't already known - but the words still ring in her ears. Thankfully, they hadn't had a case since so there was no need to face him.

"I don't know if he told her, Ange," she tells her friend softly. She grabs a champagne flute from a passing waiter and drinks most of it quickly. "I don't want to cause trouble for him."

Angela puts her hand over the top of Brennan's glass. "Seriously, Bren," she says. "I'm all for a little glug-glug-woo-woo, but this is the office Christmas party."

Brennan blinks, her expression owl-like. "Coming wasn't a good idea," she says. She gestures to Booth. "What's he doing here, anyway?"

Angela's smile fades. She remembers a time not too long ago when the partners were inseparable. "Coming was mandatory," she reminds her. _When had she become the mother hen?_ "And he's here because, as our liaison, he's always been invited." She watches as Brennan's mouth falls open and looks across the room.

Hannah Burley and Seeley Booth stand under the mistletoe near the door to Brennan's office. Brennan watches in horror as Hannah tosses her strawberry blonde ringlets over her shoulder and leans into Booth. She gulps when Booth's hands plant themselves nearly on the blonde's ass. She tears her eyes away and runs from the room without stopping to grab her coat as their mouths collide in a hungry kiss.

* * *

"Oh, baby girl," Christine sobs, wiping away the tears born of her daughter's pain.

Parker shakes his head. "Always the blondes, huh, Sarge?"

He clears his throat. "I'm leaving it to the two of you to right this situation. It appears these two need a little push before it's too late..."


	2. Visitors in the Night

**A/N:** Wow. You guys are amazing. I'm tickled that you like this idea and I'm really looking forward to sharing it with you. On with the show!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bones._

* * *

Visitors in the Night

Outside of the Jeffersonian, she hails a cab. The tears are blinding and she's sure her carefully applied eye make-up is now a disaster. She misses the days when she could detach herself from the emotion. Discovering love meant she cried at the drop of a shoe and her heart squeezes, painfully crushed, when she looks at him.

"The Lincoln Memorial, please," she says as she settles into the backseat. She carefully arranges her skirt and takes a deep breath

She doesn't know what causes her to turn around as the cab leaves the curb, but she does. And as she sees him, the man she loves, standing on the corner hailing a cab of his own, she feels an ache in her chest. She feels his eyes on her and quickly turns around only to see Hannah wrapping herself around him in the rearview mirror.

She wants desperately to turn back. To move on. To forget he ever existed.

The cab stops and the driver looks at her expectantly. "You okay, ma'am?"

"What?" she asks, shaking herself from her thoughts. "Oh, yes." She looks around for her purse and... She's mortified. She's never done anything like this. "I'm sorry, I just..."

_Priceless. Christmas Eve and he gets stiffed on a fare. _He adjusts the hat he's wearing and with his arm resting on the back of the seat, he turns around. He's about to say something when he looks at her tear-stained face. She's familiar somehow.

"It appears I left my purse at the Jeffersonian," she says, a blush staining her cheeks.

He squints. "Hey, aren't you that novelist?" he asks her. "The one who writes about - " he grabs the wrapped package he has on the seat beside him and tears the paper away. He flips it over and looks at the picture on the back of the dust jacket. "You're her!" he says as he holds the book up and looks from one face to the other.

She smiles weakly. She remembers the dedication in that book. The one she fought to have redacted. The one she's surprised he didn't mention. "Yes," she says. "I'm Temperance Brennan."

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pen. "Listen, I'll cover the cost of the fare," he says. "Would you sign this for my old lady? She's a huge fan."

She takes the items from him. "Who should I make it out to?"

"Laura," he says, a kind smile spreading over his worn features.

_To Laura - The kindness of strangers shall never be forgotten. Happy Holidays. Temperance Brennan._

She hands the book back and opens the door.

"You sure you're okay? You don't want me to wait and take you home or anything?" he asks her. "It's awful cold tonight."

She looks down at her bare shoulders. She shakes her head. "I'll be fine," she says. "Thank you."

The cold would be a good distraction. Maybe in it she'd find clarity. Maybe she'd turn back into the block of ice so many people already believed she was. Maybe the pain in her heart would finally stop.

She climbs the stairs and looks around the empty cavern of the room. She wanders the monument, staring up at the oversized statue of the sixteenth president. She runs a hand along the cool stone of one of the columns. She knows where she really wants to be.

Carefully, she makes her way to the edge of the reflecting pool and watches the moonlight reflect and refract on its surface. She heads toward the bench. _Their _bench. She gulps when she thinks of all the conversations they've had here. She knows why she picked this spot. It reminds her. Of him.

She approaches quietly. She watches the woman in red as she drops to her knees and looks at her reflection in the water. She's saddened as a hand reaches into the pool and splashes the image away. _Time for action. _"Temperance Brennan! How many times have I told you not to go outside without a coat?"

She turns around and stumbles up from her position. "Mom?"

* * *

Tonight, their coupling had been rough, frantic. He'd peeled her dress off the second they'd gotten in the door. He needed relief. Release. Something to drive away yet another image of _her_ in the back of a cab riding away from him.

He rolls away from her and stares at the ceiling. Listening with sniper ears. Waiting for her breathing pattern to level out. Wishing the guilt he felt would subside. Wanting to escape.

At the sound of gentle snoring, he gets out of bed. He's careful not to wake the woman sleeping beside him. He looks at her for a moment. Golden hair splays across her pillow in a halo. A soft smile plays on her lips. He panics when she stirs slightly and freezes in place.

He doesn't want to talk about it. To explain. He wonders if she noticed. If she knows. He went too far tonight - hell, it's more than just tonight - and he loathes himself for it. He doesn't know which of the three of them he's trying harder to convince of his feelings.

He slips back into his boxers and does what he's been doing every time he makes love to her now - goes into the kitchen and pours himself a drink. It's as if the scotch or bourbon or anything but tequila - it's never tequila because that makes the guilt worse - will wash the taste of her away.

It's not that he doesn't enjoy the honeyed sweetness of her mouth or the way her body draws him in and welcomes him. It's that it's no longer her face he sees when he's moving over her, lying beneath her. And it hasn't been for quite some time.

He pulls a glass from the cabinet and opens the freezer. Ice plinks against the side of the glass and liquor splashes over the cubes. He throws it back. The alcohol burns, slow and steady, as it slides down his throat. But it does nothing. It doesn't numb the pain. It doesn't dull the guilt.

Ever since Brennan's confession, things haven't been the same. Deep down, he supposes he knew how she felt. He knew that he was always going to be in love her and that Hannah could only ever be second best. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to try and make it work. That he wasn't going to try to love Hannah the way he loved Bones. With his whole heart.

Hannah is safe. She's fun and care-free. Young and beautiful. She makes him feel wanted. Desired. Loved. It isn't one-sided - or at least it didn't used to be. The problem with second best is that there is, in fact, something better out there.

Brennan hurt him. She hurt him and he wants her to hurt. He's afraid. He's afraid of what would happen if he gives in. He's unsure if taking another risk on her would send him spiraling into oblivion or turn out to be the gamble of a lifetime. Why should he give up a good thing for something that he isn't sure will ever be his?

He leans against the sink. Head down he stares at the empty drain. His stomach churns. It's a pretty good metaphor for his life - he's washed a lot of things down the drain lately. Flushing them carelessly away. _What kind of man has he become? How could he do this to them? Wasn't it his job to protect them from pain?_

He looks at the empty tumbler in his hand. He tilts it side to side, the ice clinking against the sides of the glass. He pours more of the amber liquid over the cubes and gulps it down. _Still nothing._

Hearing a noise, his eyes fly up to focus on something outside of the window. But the noise isn't outside. It comes from beside him. He turns his head.

He sits on the edge of the counter. He meets Booth's eyes with a lopsided grin. "Fine mess you've gotten yourself into, huh, Sarge?"

"Parker?"

* * *

Brennan's brow furrows. "This is impossible. You're dead," she states plainly. She doesn't think she's had enough to drink to be hallucinating. _Surely there was some sort of rational explanation for this..._

Christine watches the change in her daughter's face and body language. "Tempe," she says softly. "God sent me here to..."

Brennan shakes her head. "I don't believe in God." She thinks about the time Booth tried to teach her about talking to headstones. All the times he talked about God and believing. Tears start to trickle again. _Stop thinking about Booth! _she chastises herself.

She takes a step closer. Then another. She walks around the other woman in a circle. Eyeing her. Taking in details. Seeking evidence.

_Ever the scientist. Just like her father._ "Have faith, baby girl," she chuckles. "You've got to have faith."

"I don't believe in faith." She stands straight, chin held high. She looks into her mother's eyes daring her to make argument.

_Time really hasn't changed her. She's still stubborn and fixed in her mindsets. _Christine sighs. She'll have her work cut out for her tonight. "Tempe, you are very successful. You are the kind of daughter any mother would be proud of," she starts. "I know that part of it is our fault because we left you when you needed us the most. We made that decision because, as your Dad said, we wanted to keep you and Russ safe." Christine's eyes brim with tears. "You've made some bad choices because we abandoned you. Choices that are now costing you dearly."

"I don't know what that means," she tells her mother quietly, her head tilts to the side and she shivers.

"It means, Temperance," Christine answers as she takes her daughter's hand. "That you've been given another chance. A chance to understand the evidence you've been presented with and see just how much of an effect you and Seeley Booth have on one another."

* * *

Booth drops the glass and it shatters as it hits the stainless steel interior of the sink. He shakes his head. "No!" he insists. "This isn't happening. You aren't here." He scrubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. Opening them, he stares at the young soldier.

Parker grins. "Still here, Sarge," he says, scratching the back of his head.

Booth sinks to the floor and looks up at him. "Oh, God. The tumor's back..."

"I'm not a figment of the tumor. The God part is right though," he says. "I'm here on official business from the Big Guy upstairs. Sort of a Christmas miracle."

Booth remains agape. He doesn't speak. He mumbles under his breath about calling the neurologist. MRIs. Scans. Tests.

Parker laughs. "Worry about that later. We've got a lot to get to and not much time to do it."

Booth manages to pull himself together. Standing up, he reaches out and pokes Teddy in the chest. His hand comes in contact with the thick fabric of his uniform.

"If you were seein' things, that wouldn't have happened," he says as he pushes off the counter. He embraces Booth in true 'guy hug' fashion. "Believe me, yet?"

Booth's shock diminishes only slightly. He begins to get leery. "What is this? Some kind of _It's a Wonderful Life _moment?"

Parker straightens and cocks his head to the side. "Yes and no. I'm here to prove to you that you're a good man and that some things in life are worth fighting for. I - well He - thinks you've lost sight of that."

Booth squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm doing fine, alright?" he says. "I'm seeing someone. I'm happy."

Teddy laughs heartily. "Problem with that, Sarge, is that we both know it isn't true," the younger man tells him. He shuffles his boots against the worn linoleum flooring. "Look, let me just show you..."

"Show me what? Past, present and future? What are you now, Jacob Marley?" he rubs the back of his neck.

"I'm going to walk you through parts of your life, and parts of Temperance's. There are some things you need to see in order to understand." He sees a spark in Booth's eyes when he mentions Brennan's name.

"What does this have to do with my partner?" Booth asks, his eyes narrowing. He knows plenty about Brennan. He probably knows her better than she knows herself. He doesn't need to see anything to know that she rejected him. That her confession was likely only brought on by intense emotions.

"That's a question you'll have to answer for yourself." He stretches out a hand to Booth. "Come on. Let's get going."


	3. Blast from the Past

**A/N: **Thank you for all your support and all the reviews, story alerts and favorites. I'm really excited about this story and I hope as we start the flash sequences that they meet your expectations. I try to keep things as close to what we know from the show as possible, but you may note a few creative liberties in these and future snippets. Hopefully they won't detract from the story.

Happy Holidays!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bones_, just the DVDs.

* * *

Blast from the Past

Christine smiles as snow begins to swirl around them, but says nothing as she leads her daughter forward into the unknown.

Brennan drags her feet as Christine attempts to pull her along. "Where are we going?" she asks.

A colonial comes into view. Twinkling lights decorate the front porch. The rainbow glow of a Christmas tree is reflected through the picture window into the night. The scene is picturesque in it's sugarplum confection.

Only next to the tree sits a girl. Tears stream down her face, soaking into the floral flannel of her pajamas. She weeps inconsolably.

"Come on, Tempe!" her older brother moans. "It's Christmas." He shoves a brightly wrapped package toward her. "Open your presents."

Her lower lip quivers. "No! I'm waiting for Mom and Dad," she watches her younger self say.

"Damn it, Tempe!" Russ complains. "What if they don't come back?"

"I was there, Mom," grown-up Temperance tells Christine. "I'm quite aware of what happened." She crosses her arms and turns away. "Russ left me. Russ left me and I ended up in foster care."

Christine shakes her head. "Watch, Tempe. You need to see."

Brennan looks back, watching as anger flashes in her own eyes. She watches as she grabs boots and a parka, tugging them on even as the tears cloud her vision. She sees herself shoving past Russ.

"I hate you! They'll come back for me, Russ. They love me!" her logical little brain is hard at work. "If something happened, the police would have come!"

The front door to the house slams and she sits on the steps. But grown-up Brennan sees something that the child version misses. She sees her mother and father on the other side of the street a few houses down. She sees Christine's tears. Getting closer, she hears them talking.

"Max," her mother says. "Are you sure we're doing the right thing? Leaving them? Especially on Christmas..."

Her father strokes her mother's arms. "Ruthie, what choice do we have? It isn't safe to take them. You know the kind of people who're after us. You know how close they've already come to hurting the kids."

Her mother's eyes overflow, tears streaming over her cheeks as she watches her daughter sitting on the porch steps, rocking back and forth. "She isn't going to understand."

"We need to go, Ruthie. We should have stuck around this long." Her father glances around. "Russ'll take care of her. We'll catch up with them some day." He ushers her towards the vehicle.

"Max," she pleads.

"We don't have any other choice," he says as he places a kiss on her temple. "Let's go."

Brennan's mouth falls open. "You were there?"

Christine nods. "Yes."

"And you didn't want to leave?" she asks.

She watches her mother shake her head. "Baby girl, I never would have left if I had known what was going to happen to you. It wouldn't have been worth it because it really didn't keep you safe, did it?"

* * *

He'd know the south part of Philly anywhere. The dirty snow. The smells wafting from the dumpster behind the old apartment where he grew up.

"There's nothing here I need to see, Teddy," Booth tells his guide.

Teddy shakes his head. "Yeah, well, this isn't what you're thinking, Sarge."

Booth chuckles uncomfortably. "No?" he looks around. Pointing up at a lit window, he says, "That's the old apartment where I grew up." Gesturing down the street, he adds, "About a block that way is my old man's favorite liquor store. The one where he blew nearly all the cash Mom brought in above what he made at the barber shop. Not that she made much."

"This next part is gonna be rough," Teddy says as he rubs the back of his neck.

Booth's brow furrows in confusion. He sees the flashing lights of an ambulance and two police cars. Two cops - one barely out of the academy, the other a seasoned veteran - climb out of their vehicles. The medics make a gurney ready and hold, waiting for the police to clear the scene.

"We always avoided calling the cops," Booth says. "What...?"

"It was the neighbor," Teddy tells him. "This is what would have happened if you'd never been born. Before I can show you other things, I need for you to understand what would have happened without you."

Suddenly, they're in the living room. He can smell the distinct odor of his father's whiskey and stale cigarette smoke along with something metallic. Tonight, there is no tinkling of piano keys. No sound of his mother's voice trying to compose cheerful jingles. There's no Jared belly-aching about wanting ice-cream or something sweet.

There isn't because they both lie on the floor. Booth gulps as he sees his mother's face, black and blue, lying in a pool of blood. He sees a tiny piece of ivory and knows it's a tooth. Her broken body half shields, half crushes the tiny body of a 7-year-old Jared.

Booth runs to the kitchen as he feels the bile rising. His body heaves as if to wretch into the sink, but nothing comes. He turns to look at Teddy and sees his father. He becomes enraged.

Joseph Booth sits in his worn green recliner. Whiskey in hand, he stares blankly at the bodies. Blood splatters over his aptly named wife-beater shirt. It covers his knuckles and smears his face. "They had it coming," he says without hint of emotion. "She was goin' to leave me."

Booth's hands curl into fists. He charges toward the chair only to come in contact with Teddy's body.

"Relax, Sarge," Parker says as he pushes back. "They can't see us. There isn't anything you can do."

"He's acting like nothing happened..." Booth replies, shocked at the scene as it plays out. He knew his father was a son of a bitch, but he didn't

"You're life is valuable. You're worthy." The young man's words echo in the silence. "Jared is alive because you protected him. You protected him the way you protect everyone you love."

* * *

"Where're we going, Dad?" she hears Parker Booth's voice touch her ears.

"You'll see, Bud," Booth replies as he starts the SUV's ignition.

Brennan and Christine flash-forward to stand in a tree lot. Brennan begins to protest in confusion, but Christine hold up a hand. "Just watch."

Booth and Parker look at the trees. Booth looks at what's left. The selection is rather dismal. Parker runs up and grabs his father's hand excitedly. "I found it, Dad" I found the perfect tree for Dr. Bones and her family!"

Booth joins in the child's laughter and swings Parker over one of his shoulders. Brennan feels a surge of warmth run through her body as she observes the interaction between the pair. Parker lifts his head up. "That one!" he points, squealing as Booth tickles him.

The laughter stops. "Great pick, Parks," he says seriously as he waves down a lot attendant. "We'll take this one," he says, pulling his wallet from the pocket of his slacks. "But wait..." he says. Handing the man the cash, he holds up a finger. "Hold it. We'll be right back. I want to run to the drugstore over there and see if they have any lights."

Booth smiles down at his son and the pair race across the parking lot to the CVS. They grab the last few packages of lights on the shelf and a smile tugs at Booth's lips as he chucks a box of candy canes and some candy onto the counter as well.

She watches as both Booth boys put the lights on the tree and wait for the attendant to strap it to the roof. Booth and parker climb into the car, sharing a high-five. They split a candy bar with the promise of stopping for pizza on the way home.

She smiles as she sees Booth standing in the snow outside the conjugal trailer with Parker. She watches as the lights come on. She remembers this Christmas as if it happened yesterday, not three years ago. She hadn't realized the lengths he had gone to. She hadn't really thought about it. But then, she supposed that was the problem. _She hadn't thought._

"He loves you, you know," Christine whispers. "He loved you even back then."

A tear she didn't realize was left slips from the corner of her eye. She whispers the words she said to him back then, "Thank you for my gift, Booth."

* * *

They're standing in the dirt of the mine where Brennan and Hodgins were buried alive. He recognizes the spot. Only it's different somehow. "This didn't happen at Christmas," he says to Parker. His eyes narrow. The investigator in him doesn't like where this is going.

"Nope," he agrees a little too casually. "It didn't. But Christmas was when they were found." His trademark grin is missing. He watches as the seriousness of his words hits.

"No, we found them," Booth insists. "I pulled them out of the ground myself. I held her. She was breathing."

"That was then, Sarge." he says. "You weren't there this time."

Booth watches a crane digging at the surface over where the car was buried with its occupants. "That's impossible. She worked with the FBI because I brought her in. She never would have..." his voice trails off.

"What? Been here if you hadn't met?" Teddy's brows draw up. "You really think it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been around?"

"I brought her in. I sought her out," he says as he rakes a hand through his hair. "She'd have been safe if it wasn't for me."

"She's a leader in her field and the Jeffersonian is right around the corner from the FBI. Somebody'd have figured it out," Parker states plainly. "I mean how many times have you said she was the best?"

Booth drops to his knees and leans forward. His gut burns. He can't look. He can't see her. Not like this. "Enough. Please, Parker," he begs. "I can't do this. I can't do this..."

"Sarge, you gotta understand," Parker admonishes.

"I do," the noise that escapes him comes in a sob. "I get that they're better off with me in their lives. I wanna live again. Please, Parker," he begs, his hand fisting in the leg of Teddy's uniform pants. "I wanna live again."


	4. Back to the Future

**A/N:** Special thanks to ProfeJMarie. Much the way I've often said that Mistletoe and Mistletoe II belonged to jsq as much as they are mine, this one I share with you. Thank you for your unwavering support and for bouncing the idea ball with me. Let me be clear in saying that this wouldn't have happened without you.

To stephaniew and BonesSarah - thanks for having my back on the last one and letting me know you thought I handled it the right way. To lalaurala-bones and gocubsgo17 for sticking with me and holding my hands. To MiseryMaker, LJLanham and everyone one else who has said they couldn't wait for more - I love you all.

And especially to BandB4ever. Thanks for making my week. While I had to enlist the help of a friend to translate your review, I sincerely appreciate your willingness to forgo language barriers and let me know how much you're enjoying what I've got going. It means more to me than you know. Thank you.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

* * *

Back to the Future

Booth sits up on the couch panting for air. "Bones," he whispers, choking on her name as it leaves his throat.

"Boy, that one was rough, huh, Sarge?" Teddy asks with a chuckle from his position at Booth's feet.

Booth sits up. He rubs his temple. "I think I liked the last tumor better.

Teddy shakes his head. "Yeah, yeah. Scans and tests. I heard you the last time."

"Look, kid," he says. "I liked you enough that I named my son after you, but this is just too much..."

"And we aren't half way done yet," he says with a grin.

Booth swings his legs off of the couch. "What do you mean we aren't halfway done yet?" he asks warily.

Teddy stands up. "We saw the past, now it's time to see the present - how it will be and how it could have been."

"I told you, Parker," he says gruffly. "I'm happy. I don't know why you feel the need to do this."

He scratches his head. "I'm calling bullshit on that one, Sarge."

Booth's eyes narrow. He crosses his arms. "Excuse me?"

"Does a man who's happy really leave his woman lying naked and alone in bed to guzzle bourbon?" he prods. "Does he call out another woman's name in his sleep?"

Booth doesn't answer. He doesn't even bother to open his mouth. His arms drop to his sides. "I don't see the purpose of all this - " he eventually protests.

Parker smirks. "You will by the end of the night," he remarks. "Come on, Sarge. We don't have too much time left before daylight."

* * *

Brennan finds herself sitting on the bench by the reflecting pool again. Her mother is beside her. She finds herself fighting against the chill of the night air.

"We still have more ground to cover," Christine tells her. "Are you ready?"

She frowns. "I don't know what that means."

Christine takes her hand. "It means that I'm going to show you what happens this year and what could have happened." She stands up and pulls her daughter with her.

Brennan wobbles unsteadily on her heels. "I don't know if I can," she whispers, "watch him with her."

"But you have to, sweetheart," she says with a sad smile. "You have to see to understand."

Tears twinkle in her eyes, threatening to spill yet again. "It hurts..."

Christine's eyes fill at the damage that has been done. Damage that she had a part in inflicting. Damage that may never fully be undone. She weeps inwardly at the loss, the missed chances. But she forces herself to be strong. She squeezes Brennan's hand. "Let's get it over with then."

* * *

Booth looks around, blinking as things come into focus. He's back at the Christmas party. He watches as Hodgins comforts Angela.

"She ran out of here without her coat, Jack," the pregnant woman says as she attempts to brush the tears from her eyes.

Jack Hodgins tucks his wife's hair back behind her ear. "What happened?" he asks her.

The artist points across the room and scowls. "_She_ happened."

Booth follows the bug-man's eyes as they drift across the room. His eyes slam shut as he watches his hands slide over Hannah's body in front of the entire lab. He remembers her tongue slipping into his mouth. They way they clung to each other like teenagers as they made their way out front to catch a cab.

It hits him. Brennan. Tears. The cab.

Teddy crosses his arms. "Oh, she saw you alright."

He turns back to watch their friends. Cam approaches.

"What just happened here?" she asks, her face taught as she throws a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of Brennan's flight. She follows the other pairs of eyes across the room. Her mouth falls open at his behavior. "Oh, Seeley..."

He realizes that none of their friends called him out on it. No one lit into him for the pain he caused her.

"Would you feel better if I went and looked for Dr. B.?" Hodgins asks Angela.

She nods at her husband. "It's just so cold out..."

Teddy pulls on Booth's arm, drawing him away.

"Do they find her?" he asks. "Is she okay?" He tries to stay. To watch even though it tortures him. But it's what he sees next that makes the guilt unbearable.

They're outside now. He can feel the bite of the cool air and see it in the gooseflesh that dances trails over her skin.

He watches as she sits, shivering on _their _bench. His heart breaks for her and he chastises himself for all the hurt he's caused her. _Being happy had come at a high cost._

He kneels beside her when she moves to the edge of the reflecting pool. He sees her tear-stained face in the reflection on the glassy surface. He reaches out to stop her as her hand dips into the icy water to break the image. His hand comes back empty, his fingers slipping through hers. He looks at Teddy.

"She can't see you," he says.

Booth stares blankly at him. "Tell me they find her. Tell me she's okay..."

Teddy ignores the question and presses on, taking Booth into the next leg of their journey.

* * *

They're squeezed into the font seat of the cab. She watches as Booth fondles Hannah. With a level of discomfort, she realizes something. _Seeley Booth is _not_ a prude._

He struggles to remove his wallet from his pocket to pay the cabbie as Hannah's hands wander his body. Touching. Rubbing, Reaching out in ways meant to give him pleasure.

They're in Booth's apartment now. She watches as Hannah's long fingers stroke up the back of Booth's neck and curl into his hair. She tries to look away, to focus on something other than the despair that wraps itself around her heart. But she can't.

Sensing her daughter's discomfort, Christine squeezes her hand. She continues to hold it firmly. Attempting to offer much needed comfort.

Hannah pushes Booth's coat off of his shoulders. Saucily, she wraps the ends of his scarf around her hands and uses it to pull him closer. He, in turn, shifts her coat and it drops to her elbows as she refuses to relinquish her hold on him.

He laughs heartily and pulls back to kiss her nose, her throat. She drops one hand and then the other as her coat slips to the floor in a discarded heap. Her back comes in contact with the door.

Things escalate quickly. Clothes are pawed away, random articles scattering the floor.

"Hannah," his voice is breathy with desire. "Hannah, babe..."

She finds it in his pocket. Her eyes go wide with surprise and confusion.

His lips twitch into a smile. "Guess you found your present," he says softly. He nips at her lower lip, sucking it between his own to relieve the sting.

She pops it open with a gasp. "Seeley," she moans his name.

Temperance squeezes her mother's hand. "Mom," she says, her voice childlike.

Booth drops to one knee. "Hannah Elizabeth Burley," he says, "would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

* * *

Teddy smiles as they find themselves back at the Jeffersonian.

Booth isn't sure how much more he can take. He wants to wake up. To discover it's a nightmare born of his guilt. "Why are we back here?" he asks on a frustrated growl."

"You'll see," Teddy says, his lips curling into a rakish smile.

And see he did.

He sees himself in Brennan's office. She's wearing the same red dress she had worn to the party. Her make-up is flawless. Her blue eyes twinkle.

"But, this..." he begins.

"Shh," the soldier whispers, holding up a hand. "Just watch. This is what could have happened if you'd kept it in your pants under that fig tree."

Booth's face gets red at the memory. _Not one of his finer moments..._

Brennan smiles at him. _Well, not him_ him_, but the him she is with. _"It was a nice party," she says, her fingers resting on the lapels of his coat as she stands close to him.

"It was," he whispers back, his lips brushing over her temple.

Booth's heart squeezes at the intimacy his other self is sharing with his partner. He gazes on them longingly. He watches intently as he kisses her - full on the lips - and she doesn't back away.

"It's not over yet," he says to her. He puts both hands in his pockets and holds his fists palm down in front of her.

She looks at him, her eyes dancing as a smile tugs at her lips. She points at his left, her smile widening as he opens it to reveal a tiny sprig of mistletoe. She laughs as he holds it above them and struggles for a look at the object in his other hand.

He kisses her, tucking his right hand out of her reach behind his back. It's thorough and it steals their breath. He looks at the delightful flush of pink that tints her chest and face. He traces the heart shape of the neckline, watching his finger as it slides over the rise of her breasts. "You know how much I love you, right?" he asks.

She tilts his face up to hers with the tips of her fingers. "Booth?" she questions, searching his eyes for his confidence.

He holds out his hand to her. The tiny object catches the light and sparkles.

Her eyes dart up to his and hold. Her mouth is open and a hand flutters to cover her heart.

He smiles at her. Reaching up to close her mouth, he continues the touch with a caress of her cheek. "What do you say, Bones?" he asks. "Marry me?"

* * *

They enter the Jeffersonian lab. Brennan notes it's the party she left earlier. Her eyes scan the room.

"This is what could have happened tonight if things had been different," Christine says softly as she wraps an arm around her daughter.

Angela and Brennan stand on the edge of the room. Angela laughs merrily and runs her hands over the swell of her abdomen.

Brennan watches her friend and doesn't notice someone behind her until his arms close around her waist. "You're late," she murmurs as she leans back against his chest.

"Thanks, Booth," Angela says. Leaning forward, she holds a hand next to the side of her mouth. "Or should I say Andy?"

A blush stains Booth's cheeks and he nuzzles against the anthropologist's neck. "I so did not put her up to that."

"Of course you didn't," Brennan chimes in. "You were in Afghanistan and I was..."

Booth swallows the rest of her comment in a kiss.

She watches as his lips cover hers in a tender caress. She notices that Hannah isn't there. Hannah isn't there and she and Booth were together.

_What did it all mean?_


	5. Life in Fast Forward

**A/N:** If you had told me when I started that I would write not three Christmas stories this year, I'd have told you that you were out of your mind...but with the help of some good friends I've just about done it. I maintain that this wouldn't be in front of you if not for ProfeJMarie - thanks again!

This is the Christmas Future chapter of our little ride. It came together in shorter form than the last couple, but it hits all the notes I wanted to reach with it. There will be one last chapter to wrap things up on Christmas Day (look for it late evening as I'll be spending the earlier hours of today with my family).

Thank you all for your support! Happy Holidays!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bones._

_

* * *

_

Life in Fast-Forward

Brennan rubs her arms as she stands by the reflecting pool again. She squeezes her eyes shut wishing that she was still in the lab. Wishing it was her lips that Booth's were pressed to. That it wasn't a figment of her love-starved imagination.

Christine clears her throat. "Are you ready for the last part, Tempe?" she asks.

"Last part?" she repeats. She's shocked at the weakness in her voice. The pain of almost and what-could-have-been.

"Christmas Future," her mother replies.

"If I said no, would it make a difference?" she protests. She crosses her arms, even as her eyes soften in defeat.

The elder version reminds her so much of the girl she left behind all those years ago. She wishes she could take the pain away. Somehow take back leaving her. To find a way to make her whole. But she can't go back. She can't change things. All she can do is right things going forward. "Come on, baby girl," she says as she reaches out her hand. "This you have to see..."

* * *

Booth grips Teddy's shirt. "What did she say, Parker?" he pleads with the ghost. "I need to know what her answer was."

Parker chuckles softly. "Not part of the game plan, Sarge. If you want to know the answer, you'll actually have to ask the question."

He lets the younger man go and rakes a hand through his hair. He sits down on the edge of the sofa. Leaning forward, he dips his head until it's almost between his knees. He takes a few deep breaths.

Teddy looks up at the clock on the wall. "Uh, Sarge?" he says softly. "Could you do this whole Zen yoga thing later? We still have a little more ground to cover and I'm almost out of time.

Booth's eyes meet Parker's. "What else are you going to throw at me?" He winces at the annoyance in his voice. _This was insane. Why was he talking back?_

"Do you believe in fate?"

For a split second, his body has a visceral response to the words. _Absolutely not. That's ludicrous. _He shivers at her words and scrubs a hand over his 5 o'clock shadow. "I used to," he says carefully, "but I'm not sure I do anymore..."

* * *

"Where are we?" Brennan asks as she looks around. She stands in the living room of a modest house. Christmas lights twinkle brightly on a tree casting a golden glow on the room. Four stockings hang in a row along the mantle over the fireplace. Mistletoe hangs from the light fixture in the entryway.

A baby cries in the night and she finds herself being pulled toward the sound. She hears a woman groan and Booth's voice soothes her. "Go back to sleep," he whispers. "I'll get him."

She watches as Booth walks down the hall to the nursery, tugging on a flannel robe and cinching it around his waist. He rubs his eyes as he opens the door. "Shh," he coos as he reaches into the crib. "Daddy's here, Henry," his voice low and gentle. "Daddy's here."

Her heart seizes in her chest at the word 'daddy'. She aches for his child. The one she never got to have because of the tumor.

He lifts the infant into his arms and settles into the rocking chair in the corner of the room. The crying quiets as they rock, Booth humming softly as he rubs the child's back. He tucks the baby inside of his robe and holds him close. "That's it," he says, "Let Mommy sleep. Let her sleep..."

She watches as his eyes drift closed as the baby slumbers in the security and warmth of his father's arms. There is a tenderness that is consuming. The picture before her does nothing to ease the longing.

"Who is Henry's mother?" she asks Christine. Desperation washes over her in a wave. "Please, mom? Whose is he?"

* * *

The lights on the tree are like tiny pin-pricks as he opens his eyes and takes in the room. A colored glow filters through branches, weaving unique patterns on the walls behind it as it outlines the pine needles. Four stockings filled with holiday treats weigh heavily on the mantle of the brick fireplace.

A smile tugs at his lips when he sees her lying on the couch, one arm wrapped protectively around a bundle of pink. Two fingers on her other hand are wrapped within the confines of a chubby fist. He sees the pale platinum band that wraps around the third finger of the hand nestled against the pink blanket.

A tear escapes his eye. He thinks about the baby they could have had together. He wonders if it would have been a little girl like the one in her mother's arms. If she'd have had Brennan's blue eyes and his smile.

But the painful flicker of regret is quickly replaced by something else - love. He gets it now. He understands why he's been given this gift. I knows now, with great certainty, that he's in love with her. That he always will be in love with her.

He looks at Teddy, a single tear slipping over his cheek. "I've seen enough," he whispers. "Take me back."

An impish expression forms on the younger man's face. "Don't you wanna know who the kid's father is, Sarge?" he taunts jokingly.

Booth looks at the pair of girls sleeping on the couch. "It's not important," he says. "All that matters is that she's happy. That she has what she wants. That she's loved."

* * *

The wind begins to howl around her as she stands on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. She looks around and sees her mother walking away. Walking toward the edge of the reflecting pool.

"What happens now?" she calls out. "I don't know what any of this means."

Christine's smile warms her daughter. "You're being given a tremendous gift, Tempe," she replies. "Don't waste it..." She feels the pull of where she belongs. Heaven is calling her back.

Brennan advances down the steps as quickly as she can in designer heels. "Wait! I don't understand!"

"You will," she says as she fades into the pathway. "You will..."

* * *

Back in his kitchen, Booth stares out the window. Though unsure of what his future holds, he takes comfort in having seen a tiny glimpse at Brennan's.

Knowing that Bones was happy. Knowing that she would have a daughter. He felt renewed. Even though there was a chance that her future would not collide with his, the knowledge that she could have all of that brought him peace.

Teddy puts a hand on Booth's shoulder. "It's time for me to be gettin' back, Sarge," he says. His tone is soft and it helps to further set in the comfort that is wrapping itself around his friend. "You're being given a gift tonight. A chance to take things back. To change where you are now. It's up to you what to do with the opportunity.

And with that he's gone. He's gone and Booth is left alone with his thoughts.


	6. A Christmas Miracle

**A/N:** Merry Christmas to all of my readers and friends! For the record, I wanted to get this posted around the time I ended up posting Ch. 5 so that it would still be Christmas Day for those of you who are abroad. As it is, I'm pushing it to the wire getting it up before the end of _my_ Christmas. Stupid holiday plans keeping me from writing!

Thanks to ProfeJMarie, jenlovesbones and stephaniew, each of whom quelled my fears about the content of this chapter in different ways. Ladies, you're all amazing! Thank you and Happy Holidays!

To lalaurala-bones - thanks for being the first one to chime in and say that you understood that my getting it posted in time for Christmas outside of the US was likely not probable...and promptly forgiving me for it. I think that you secretly just wanted to see how many updates I'd post on your birthday. *wink* Hope your 25th is as "amazing" as you are!

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, Santa did not put rights to _Bones _in my stocking. Those of you who requested I get snowed in again, however, are getting your Christmas wish. I'm set to get 4-10 inches between now and Monday...

* * *

A Christmas Miracle

_Summer..._

He awakes in Kabul, Afghanistan and begins his day the same way he's started every day since his arrival. He uses a red pen to cross off the day on a calendar. Like each red mark before it, this "x" gets him one day closer to being home again.

He puts on his fatigues and, gathering his gear, heads off on patrol. Working with the locals has been interesting. The language barrier is frustrating. Nothing ever translates the way it's supposed to. He's had to do a lot of hand-over-hand training.

He's just outside of the marketplace when he sees her. Somehow, just looking at her he knows she's going to be trouble. Blonde hair and denim, he finds himself doing precisely what he promised he wouldn't - playing the hero. Maybe it's years of protecting others, maybe it's the innocence of her face, he doesn't know. It's just who he is. The white knight. The rescuer.

She's in shock when she looks up at him with her blue eyes. Before he knows what's happening, she's dragged him off behind a fig tree. Her mouth is hot. She presses it hungrily, needily, against his.

The man in him kisses her back. For a few heartbeats, it feels good to be wanted. To be pulled in by someone else rather than being pushed away. But he soon finds himself thinking of a different kiss. One where a different woman had been the aggressor. _The_ woman. The _only_ woman he wanted to kiss.

He puts his hands on her shoulders and pushes her away. "Whoa," he says. "Look, um, I mean I..." He rakes a hand through his hair and tries to compose himself. He takes a deep breath. "I'm flattered, okay? But I've got somebody back home." _It doesn't matter that she isn't ready. That she may never be ready._

She takes a step toward him, her hips swaying seductively. She places a hand on his chest. "What she doesn't know won't hurt anything," she breathes wantonly as she looks into his eyes.

"Maybe not," he says, "But I'll know and that's all that matters."

* * *

_The Return Home..._

She feels nervous as she drags her suitcase behind her to meet him, listening as it clacks over the concrete. _It's absurd, Temperance Brennan doesn't get nervous. _Her heart skips a beat when she sees him approaching with his duffle. She doesn't know what comes over her.

A grin spreads across his face and he drops his bag to the ground as she runs to him. He takes her in his arms, surprised to feel the gentle pressure of her lips at the corner of his mouth. He knows that all it would take is turning his head just so...

But he doesn't have to. She bridges the gap for him. The kiss is tentative. Her lips brush his with a shy uncertainty. When his hands find the small of her back and the nape, anchoring her, she molds herself to him. _Faith, baby. Sometimes all you need is a little faith._

The kiss grows and deepens, the way their partnership - their _friendship _- has over the last 6 years. When he feels the dampness on her cheeks, he pulls back but does not release his hold on her. "Bones?" he asks. Brown eyes drown in a sea of baby blue.

"I was wrong, Booth," she says. "Maybe I can change, maybe I..."

He wipes her tears away with a careful swipe of his hand. "I love you," he tells her. "I should have said that outside the Hoover but I was afraid you'd run..."

Her lids flutter closed. "But I ran anyway," she murmurs.

"Bones." He tilts her chin up. "Temperance, look at me." When she meets his gaze, he continues. "I love you. The way you are. I don't need you to change."

She searches the coffee-colored depths of his eyes. "You haven't moved on?"

"Bones," his voice is raw with emotion. He doesn't need to tell her about the journalist in the desert. He doesn't need to tell her that he now has evidence that he really is _that_ guy. That he really did _know_. "I couldn't even if I had wanted to," he rests his forehead against hers and pulls her the hair's breadth that separates them closer. He feels the rise and fall of her chest sync with his own. Just before his mouth crashes over hers, he speaks what he knows without a doubt is the truth: "There could never be anyone for me but you."

* * *

_Christmas Present..._

Brennan stands at the buffet table with Angela, watching as her friend has carrots with her dip. She says nothing. She knows better than to criticize the eating habits of the pregnant artist.

"Bones," Booth says as he approaches. "Can we go to your office for a minute? I need to talk to you about the um..."

Brennan's eyes light up as she recognizes the glint in her partner and lover's eyes. "The Hughes case?" she finishes.

He snaps his fingers. "Exactly!" he says, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back. He nods sheepishly at their friend when she gives him the look letting him know he's been caught. "Angela," he acknowledges with a grin.

In her office, Booth steers her under the mistletoe. He flashes her his charm smile and she fires a little half grin back at him. "I've been wanting to do this ever since Caroline blackmailed you," he says, taking her in his arms.

She melts into the warmth of his embrace and tilts her painted lips up to him invitingly. But instead, he leans down and kisses her just below her ear. "I love this dress," he says, his fingers ghosting just above the heart-shaped neckline and causing her to shiver. He continues to tease her with soft touches for a few minutes more. He knows just how close to come to the line between work and home.

"Booth," her tone is pleading. She needs the warmth of his mouth on hers. To feel his touch as much as she needs to breathe. She's never wanted a man as badly as she wants him. Now. _Always_.

He rewards her, claiming her lips with 6 years worth of passion. His tongue touches hers lightly. His hands itch to pull the pins from her hair to run his fingers through it. He pulls back. "Let's get out of here," he says to her. He knows she hates these parties.

Her eyes sparkle mischievously. "We shouldn't," she says, quickly adding, "Do you think we could?" She eyes the room filled with donors and museum patrons.

He thinks of the time he let her think they were skipping out on the check and grins at her. He grabs her coat. "We've made an appearance. It's not like this is an awards dinner."

She puts her coat on and they amazingly manage to make it out the sliding door of the lab. They hurry outside and share another kiss at the curb as he attempts to hail a cab.

"Where to?" the cabbie asks as they climb in.

Booth gives him Brennan's address and kisses the anthropologist's forehead as she snuggles into his side.

At a red-light he looks over his shoulder. "Hey!" he says. "You're that author!" He reaches for the package on the seat beside him and pulls the paper away.

Sensing his desire to protect her kick in, she lovingly squeezes his knee. "It's okay, Booth," she says.

"Would you mind signing this for my ol' lady? She's a huge fan," he says as he hands her the book.

Brennan smiles and accepts it. "Who should I make it out to?" she asks kindly.

"Laura," he says. "Thanks. This is gonna make her Christmas!"

She takes a moment to write a brief note on the title page before flipping to the dedication. She hands the book to Booth. He's already seen it, but she does it anyway to remind him of something she doesn't always have the ability to say.

_To my long-term partner and best friend, Seeley Booth. Not only is he my real-life Agent Andy Lister, he's also the man who taught me everything I never though I needed to know about love..._

_

* * *

_

_Christmas Several Years in the Future..._

He awakens to an empty bed and a cry coming through the baby monitor. Blinking away the sleep from his eyes, he tugs on his bathrobe as he makes his way to the nursery. He looks into the first crib and finds it empty.

"Hey, buddy," he says as he scoops Henry into his arms. The infant quiets when shifted against his father's broad shoulder. "Where're Mom and Ms. Madeline?"

He makes his way down the stairs and into the living room. There, on the couch, bathed in the pale glow of the lights shimmering on the Christmas tree, he finds them.

Maddie lays on Brennan's chest, her mother's arm tucked protectively around her tiny body. He can't help but smile when the platinum of her wedding and engagement bands - rings she had once swore she had no interest in wearing - catch the light.

He settles into the leather chair in the corner. It's there that he counts his blessings - not the least of which are the woman sleeping peacefully on the sofa and the twins that occupy their parents arms. Just before he falls asleep he considers just how lucky he truly is. And how thankful he is for his Christmas miracle.

* * *

**A/N: **To quote our friend jenlovesbones, "Joyeux Noël, Feliz Navidad, Froehliche Weihnachten, and Merry Christmas to all of you . . . wherever you are."


End file.
